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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23362747">Lockdown</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SZRaff/pseuds/SZRaff'>SZRaff</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The 100 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, F/F, lockdown - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:20:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,126</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23362747</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SZRaff/pseuds/SZRaff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke has never met her next door neighbour. With the country on lockdown and everyone confined to their homes to wait out the pandemic, now seems like the perfect time to say hi.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clarke Griffin/Lexa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>236</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Day One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So the UK is in lockdown and I'm not having to go into work these days, so I guess I should crack on with my pile of WIPs right? Nah, let's start something new.<br/>Here's a little something to pass the time. It might not be daily, but I'm going to try and keep this going for as long as the lockdown here continues, and I'm trying not to hang onto chapters until they've been edited 1000 times like I usually do... You can blame my slow updates on other fics on that.</p><p>Stay safe!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, Clarke thought. She could use the time in lockdown away from the distractions of everyday life to work on some projects she had held off for who knows how long. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She made herself a cup of coffee, dropped her mum a Whatsapp message to call her later, grabbed her sketchbook, and headed out to her balcony. The sun was out and starting to warm the edge of the balcony. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Clarke began to sketch, blanket over her knees to ward off the early Spring chill, she let her thoughts drift. Despite the global pandemic and countries shutting down in order to protect people and reduce the spread of the virus, the Earth continued to turn, bringing with it the change of seasons. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Long after we’ve gone, she mused, the Earth will carry on... like we were never there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the page before her the city skyline took shape and Clarke noticed the differences from just a few days ago. Skyscrapers were no longer lit up by office lights. The streets were empty. Clarke often sat out on her balcony in the mornings, just listening to the sounds of the city as she prepared for the day. But now it was eerily quiet, save for the birds chirping in the distance. There was no angry tooting of horns, no dull thrumming of car engines, no music blasting from the coffee cart on the corner of the street. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke wished she could sketch the serenity of it all. Instead all she could capture was a visual moment in time; the city suspended in motion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A movement below caught her eye. It was a man out walking his dog. Clarke watched him head in the direction of the park and considered going for a walk herself - she might as well as that was the only thing she was allowed to do outside of her apartment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sudden crack startled Clarke from her thoughts, but it was just her neighbour opening their balcony door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke glanced over out of curiosity; she hadn’t met her neighbour at apartment 318, just heard the front door open and close at antisocial hours of the morning and evening. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had imagined the unknown occupant of 318 to be some sort of businessman. Middle-aged maybe, with a receding hairline and tired suits. She had literally no reason to think that other than a bare balcony and a constantly unavailable presence. She could not have been more wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The inhabitant of 318 was in fact a young woman, about Clarke’s age. She stepped out onto the balcony cradling a steaming cup, dressed in a jumper and some </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>short shorts that showed off long tanned legs. She had chestnut brown hair pulled back into a messy bun and black rimmed glasses perched atop her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke couldn’t help but appreciate that the woman was attractive. Blame her artistic eye for finding beauty everywhere she could, but 318 was hot. And smiling right at Clarke, who wasn’t just glancing anymore. She was staring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Hey,’ 318 waved. ‘Nice morning, isn’t it?’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>Damn</span>
  </em>
  <span>, even her voice was attractive. Unexpectedly soft.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Yeah,’ Clarke agreed. ‘Really peaceful.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman leaned on the balcony and took a sip of her drink. Clarke tore her gaze away, trying not to seem like a creep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Is this your first day in lockdown?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke hadn’t expected the conversation to continue. Most people in Polis were anti-social even before social distancing became a thing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke nodded. ‘Though so far it’s not too different from my usual day - I’m used to spending time on my own.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘How come?’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’m an artist,’ Clarke gestured to her sketchpad. ‘A bit of alone time is expected. But if I’m stuck in one place I still reckon I’ll be climbing the walls if this lasts the three months they expect.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Tell me about it,’ 318 chuckled. ‘I’m Lexa, by the way.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Clarke,’ Clarke replied. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Nice to meet you, Clarke,’ Lexa replied. She raised her cup in greeting, Clarke reciprocated with her own cup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Have you lived here long?’ Clarke asked. ‘I’ve been here a year and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Six months. I run a gym, so I tend to get up early for a run and don’t get back until late after closing up. I’m only really here overnight.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘A gym, huh?’ Clarke’s eyes flitted back to Lexa’s legs. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That explains it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Woods Fitness, down on Fifth. You ever been?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke laughed. ‘I’m not really a gym person. But I wear active wear for painting, does that count?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Sure,’ Lexa chuckled. She glanced back into her apartment. ‘My phone’s ringing. That’ll be my business partner wanting to talk work. It was nice chatting to you, Clarke.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke raised a hand in farewell but Lexa was already gone. The door closed behind her and the balcony was bare once more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a sigh, Clarke glanced back at her sketchpad. She didn’t feel like sketching the skyline anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>===</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke returned to the balcony as evening fell, glass of wine in one hand, her mobile in the other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Hey mum, how was shift?’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Awful.’ Abby’s voice was hoarse with tiredness. ‘Clarke honey, please tell me you’re being sensible? You’re following all the guidelines; not going out, washing your hands?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Yes mum, I’m doing all of that.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Good. This isn’t going to be over anytime soon, honey. The cases just keep coming and coming and we don’t have enough staff or resources or even room to treat them. It’s just chaos.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I wish I could help you out,’ Clarke sighed. ‘Cook you something for when you finish shift, you know?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I know Clarke, but the best thing you can do right now is stay at your apartment and not go out unless it’s absolutely necessary.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I know.’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Just think how lucky you are,’ Abby chuckled. ‘If you’d stuck with Med School you’d be here helping too.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke couldn’t believe her mother. Now of all times to bring that up. ‘Wow, thanks for that.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound that way.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Sure.’ Clarke pursed her lips. Her choice of career was always a sore point between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I just meant I’m glad you’re not here and are able to stay safe.’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Okay mum,’ Clarke hated that her conversations with her mother always turned sour. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Well, as long as you’re staying safe I can keep doing my job. I’m shattered so I’m going to have a shower and go straight to bed. I’m back in the ER tomorrow morning. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Clarke. Love you.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Love you too,’ Clarke signed off and waited for the beep that told her that her mother had hung up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘That sounded cheery.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke glanced around and found Lexa peeking out from the doorway of her balcony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Mothers,’ Clarke huffed, taking a sip of her wine. ‘They just have a way with words, you know?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Mmm, yep.’ Lexa nodded. ‘You want some company out here?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I wouldn’t say no, my social life isn’t exactly off the charts these days.’ On a normal evening, Clarke would probably be out for drinks with her friends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Give me a second.’ Lexa disappeared back into her apartment. Clarke watched as Lexa shuttled back and forward to deck out the balcony. A few sips of wine later and Lexa had a coffee table, a sofa chair, and her own glass of wine out on the balcony with her. ‘There we go. Much better.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Almost like you live here,’ Clarke teased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Almost,’ Lexa nodded. ‘I’ll need to spruce up the walls a bit if I’m going to spend any amount of time here.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke perked up at the turn of conversation. If there was one thing Clarke could talk about it was art, and two hours later they were still chatting away like they were old friends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’m really sorry, Clarke,’ Lexa stifled a yawn. ‘I should get to bed. This whole doing nothing all day has really tired me out.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘No worries,’ Clarke smiled. The wine was making her pretty sleepy too. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘See you tomorrow,’ Lexa grinned. ‘Night, Clarke.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke hummed happily to herself, feeling a little buzzed from the bottle of wine she had almost polished off. Yep, maybe the lockdown wouldn’t be so bad after all. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you fancy it, let me know what you've been up to during this whole thing - whether able to work or not, how you've been spending your time, or anything you've seen out and about that really hit home with you.<br/>Like earlier today I saw a dad making the most of his allotted one trip out of the house by cycling a tandem with his kid on the back, while also walking a dog. Mad skills.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Day Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Clarke stepped out onto the balcony and took a deep breath of refreshing morning air. It was another lovely morning and Clarke had quite enjoyed having a lie in until she was bored of being horizontal. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Morning neighbour.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke was pleasantly surprised to find Lexa already out on the balcony. Much like the previous day she was cradling a cup of coffee and wearing a shorts and jumper combo, hair up, but no glasses this time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Hey, have you been out here long?’ Clarke asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lexa shrugged. ‘I’m used to being up early, so I went for my usual morning run and now I’m back here deciding how to spend my day.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Careful,’ Clarke winked. ‘You know you’re not allowed out again now, right?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Yeah, I’ve been clocked by the little old lady on the ground floor,’ Lexa chuckled. ‘I’m worried if I tried to go out again today she’d call the cops on me.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke chuckled at how natural this absurdity had all become after only a day of nationwide lockdown. ‘It’s mad isn’t it?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Totally,’ Lexa nodded, the smile slipping from her face. ‘You hear the news reports every day, and it’s just getting worse and worse. If the gym wasn’t managed by my sister and I with only a small team, this would have put us out of business.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke curled up on her own chair. ‘Is there anything you can do to make it any better?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lexa shrugged. ‘We’ve put out a plea to customers not to cancel their memberships so there’s still money coming in to cover the building rent and insurance. For the duration of lockdown we’re halving membership fees and offering one free PT session for every month this continues.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Sounds smart,’ Clarke nodded. ‘With that deal I’d even consider joining.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lexa shook her head with a smile. ‘Sorry, that deal is for existing customers only.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke pouted. ‘How about a friendly neighbour discount?’ </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lexa pretended to think about it for a moment. ‘I think I could make an exception.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘That’s very generous of you. I’ll give you a great review for your customer service.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘I’ll hold you to that,’ Lexa warned. ‘Customer reviews are no joke.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘So you have a sister?’ Clarke enquired. She had to admit she was curious about her neighbour.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Yep, Anya. She’s my older sister. How about you, any siblings?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke shook her head. ‘Just me. My parents were busy enough with their jobs and me, let alone having another kid running around.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘You can’t have been as much of a handful as Anya and I,’ Lexa raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Oh no,’ Clarke shook her head. ‘I was a very well-behaved child. Not so much as a teenager, but definitely as a kid. My parents were just workaholics who basically lived at work.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘You know if there’s one thing that this pandemic is highlighting, it’s that most jobs don’t require you to be away from home.’ Lexa wasn’t looking at Clarke when she said it, she was looking out at the city. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke half agreed with her. ‘My dad could have definitely been at home a lot more; he was an engineer. But my mum’s a doctor at Arkadia Med, so that’s definitely not a work from home job.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Is your dad no longer with us?’ Lexa’s voice was soft and empathetic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke twisted her hands in her lap. ‘Yeah, he died a few years ago. Car accident.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘I’m sorry to hear that, Clarke.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke nodded her thanks, she was never good at talking about her dad, but she could tell Lexa was sincere and wondered whether she had lost someone close to her too. One thing Clarke had picked up over the years was the difference in tone when people were genuinely sorry for her loss or if they were just saying out of politeness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘I, uh, I should go get some breakfast,’ Clarke announced, unfolding her legs and standing up with a stretch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘I’m sorry if I overstepped,’ Lexa frowned, ‘by asking about your dad?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke waved her concerns away. ‘No, you didn’t. I just got up late and haven’t eaten yet. Are you going to be out here again tonight?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Probably,’ Lexa smiled. ‘Unless my social calendar suddenly picks up.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Well let’s hope it doesn’t,’ Clarke smiled. ‘See you later for some more wine and art critiques? Shall we say about 5?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘I’ll put it in my planner so I don’t forget,’ Lexa joked. Clarke waved before she closed the balcony doors behind her. She snuck a quick peek across to admire how regal Lexa looked, like a queen surveying her kingdom. The posture, the jawline, the gaze. It was very dramatic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>===</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had been a good day. Clarke had reorganised her wardrobe, done her laundry, stared at some of her paintings wondering when she would next be able to exhibit them. Her mum had checked in over text. And even then it had only been 2pm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There were so many hours in the day. Who knew?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So she checked in on her friends. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Raven was still working: ‘Being a genius doesn’t stop because of a pandemic, Clarke,’ she had pointed out. ‘In fact that’s when we’re in high demand. I’m working on a new model of ventilator that can be mass produced using 3D printing.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Octavia was already hating living with her older brother, Bellamy: ‘I was perfectly fine in my own apartment,’ she paced, like a caged tiger. ‘Why he thinks I’m safer with him when he’s out volunteering every day delivering food to people who are isolating is beyond me. He’s literally interacting with people who have it!’ </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Monty and Jasper appeared to just be getting high: ‘Only when Maya and Harper are at work though,’ they assured Clarke. ‘Did you know nurses get drug tested?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Murphy didn’t answer his phone, not that Clarke had expected him to. Emori texted back later on saying they were both busy, they’ll get back to her after the lockdown is over.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Miller was a cop, so Clarke expected he would be working, but she dropped him a message to check in anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke even checked in on Niylah, her friend with benefits that were not exclusive to running the coffee shop next door to the Gallery. ‘This lockdown would be much better if you were here,’ Niylah had messaged. Clarke appreciated the sentiment, but found it also highlighted the lack of human contact she would have to deal with for the three weeks of lockdown. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least she had Lexa to talk to. And so what if Clarke could appreciate the view at the same time. With that thought, Clarke wrapped herself up in some leggings, a thick jumper, and her fluffiest blanket. It was significantly colder than the previous evening, and Clarke hoped that Lexa would still be up for their evening talks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Hey, I was just making a hot chocolate,’ Lexa explained when she stepped out onto the balcony soon after Clarke had got herself settled. ‘I wasn’t sure if you’d still come out in this temperature.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke shook her head. ‘I don’t mind the cold as long as I’m dressed for it. But you’re making me look like an alcoholic for bringing wine out here when you’ve got the sensible hot chocolate.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lexa laughed out loud. ‘I can always add a little Baileys to this and make it Irish if that’ll make you feel better?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke shook her head, smiling. Lexa’s smile and laugh were quite infectious. Clarke bit her lip as a thought occurred to her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Can I ask you something, Lexa? You’ve been out here talking to me these past two nights, don’t you have someone you want to spend this time with instead?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lexa shook her head, her smile slipping slightly. ‘Not really. I mean, it would be nice to see my family, but I don’t need to. We’re just not that kind of family.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘What do you mean?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lexa shrugged. ‘We’re always there for each other, but we have our space and our own lives. We’re all so independent that if we were stuck in each others’ pockets for any length of time we’d all go nuts.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke chuckled. She and her mother were in a similar boat, but because they were both so strong-willed and stubborn they clashed all the time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘How about you, Clarke?’ Lexa asked. ‘Haven’t you got anyone?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke shook her head. ‘Not really. My mum and I aren’t the most compatible in small spaces, and you already know about my dad. My college friends are dotted about the city, but they’ve all got other people to spend this time with, or jobs to keep things going.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘So you’re left on your own?’ It wasn’t pity in Lexa’s voice; just understanding.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Not totally on my own,’ Clarke took a sip of her drink. ‘You’re here too right?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lexa laughed. ‘Well it’s my pleasure to keep you company in these dystopian times, Clarke.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Likewise,’ Clarke raised her wine in a toast. ‘Happy to be your dystopian balcony date.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘On that note,’ Lexa cocked her head to look at Clarke. ‘And I apologise if this is presumptuous, but how is it you don’t have a line of people down the block waiting to spend this lockdown with you?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke blushed. ‘I could ask you the same question.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘I asked you first.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘There is someone who would like to be here, but I’m not sure I feel the same way,’ Clarke admitted. ‘She’s great and all, but I just don’t see anything working out long term.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke glanced to assess Lexa’s reaction to her confession. There was a hint of an eyebrow raise but otherwise Lexa didn’t seem to have an issue with Clarke being with a woman.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Poor girl,’ was all that Lexa said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke had explicitly stated to Niylah several times that they were only friends with benefits, but she knew that Niylah wanted more. Being stuck in lockdown with her would have been incredibly awkward.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Your turn - a successful gym owner like yourself surely you get hit on all the time?’ Clarke refrained from mentioning that she would absolutely be one of those hitting on Lexa if she came across her under different circumstances.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lexa shrugged. ‘There are offers and sometimes I accept, but no one’s really made me want to commit. I’ve rushed into commitment before and it didn’t end well.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘How come?’ Clarke asked, unsure if Lexa would open up to her. To Clarke’s surprise she did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘I got engaged straight out of college to my highschool sweetheart,’ Lexa explained, staring into the depths of her hot chocolate. ‘A year later she was killed in a hit and run.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke understood now Lexa’s empathy when Clarke had struggled to talk about her father. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘I’m so sorry, Lexa,’ Clarke wasn’t sure what else to say. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They sat in silence for a few moments before Lexa cleared her throat. ‘Well, that took a depressing turn. How about we talk about something else? Did you do any painting today?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke broke out of her thoughts that were quickly turning towards memories of her father. It was all too easy to gravitate towards deeper and darker thoughts as the evening settled in, so for the rest of their discussion they kept the topics light.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well I'm now one week into lockdown and it's been a pretty decent time to get back into writing some of my other WIPs.</p>
<p>Thanks for all the comments and kudos so far, it's always great to get feedback and to hear about how others are dealing with the lockdown or still working to keep everything going. <br/>In real life lockdown love news for UK readers - anyone else hear about the couple on Radio 1? Nigel and Lauren, I think? They met on Tinder shortly before the lockdown and decided to make things official when lockdown was announced. Now they're together in lockdown and declared their love for each other on national radio. Now that's the kind of stuff you just can't write. &lt;3 </p>
<p>Stay safe folks, and keep reading :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Day Three, or is it Four?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Clarke and Lexa quickly fell into a sort of routine that revolved around each other. Clarke would get up about mid-morning and pop out to the balcony with her breakfast. Lexa would have already been for her crack of dawn run and showered by the time Clarke joined her outside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They wouldn’t talk as much in the mornings, just make a bit of chit chat about what they had planned for the day. When they went back inside their respective apartments, they would aim to do something productive with their afternoons. At some point, Clarke would set about making dinner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One thing she had noticed was that she wasn’t as hungry as usual. Maybe that was because she wasn’t surrounded by the constant smells of food from shops and street vendors out and about. Or maybe she just wasn’t running on other people’s time so her body was happy to wait a little longer between meals. Whatever the reason, Clarke would finish up her dinner and then naturally gravitate back to the balcony as the sun set on the early evening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa would join her a little bit later on, but Clarke would be out on her own for no more than half an hour. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘What did you get up to today?’ Clarke asked when Lexa had gotten comfortable on her chair. Their balcony furniture was no longer angled towards the city, but instead faced towards each other. The gap between their railings kept them apart, even when they both stretched their arms out as far as they could (they had tried), but it was close enough for them to chat and hear each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa stretched her arms out above her head, stifling a yawn. ‘I did some paperwork for the gym and planned some promotions for when this is all over. Watched Planet Earth II while I worked so that made it more fun.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke nodded approvingly. ‘Nice choice.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘You can’t beat a bit of David.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Very true.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I take it you’ve been painting?’ Lexa gestured to Clarke’s arm where she had leaned on some paint and left a smudge on her forearm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Yeah, I had a bit of inspiration.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Oh yeah? From what?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke felt a little embarrassed as she admitted that her inspiration was their evening discussions watching the sun set over the city. ‘It’s a bit cliche, but the dark skyline with the setting sun just stuck in my head, so I had to put it on canvas.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa smiled. ‘I look forward to seeing your art someday. You’ll have to give me the tour of your gallery.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘It would be my pleasure,’ Clarke beamed, always happy to show her wares to people who were interested. Clarke fidgeted with the edge of her hoodie, debating whether to bring up the idea she had. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, Lexa was pretty attentive and broke the silence between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I can hear your brain from here; what’s up?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I found one of those online quizzes to get to know people,’ Clarke confessed. ‘I thought we could give it a go? I wasn’t sure if you’d think it was cringey or something.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Yeah, sounds like it could be fun as well as informative,’ Lexa folded her legs underneath her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke was relieved that Lexa didn’t think it was lame. Clarke had read through some of the questions earlier and wanted to know more about her still somewhat mysterious neighbour. ‘I’ll warn you though, it is entitled “weird questions to ask someone to get to know them better” so be prepared.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa grinned, ‘now I’m even more intrigued; it’s like a date.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke ignored the lurch she felt at the thought of going on a date with Lexa. She had been adamantly telling herself that she only found Lexa attractive because she was available, gay, and the only person Clarke had seen in days. Clarke was convinced that 50% of the women she found attractive were in that category because they were out and single. It was very problematic for her dating life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A small but loud part of her brain yelled at her that she was lying to herself, but Clarke actually enjoyed Lexa’s company during the lockdown and didn’t want to scare her off by hitting on her if the feeling wasn’t mutual. So instead she cleared her throat and found the link she had bookmarked on her phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Alright, question one: what conspiracy theories do you believe?’ Clarke looked over at Lexa, whose brow furrowed in concentration.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I don’t think I believe any,’ she shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Come on,’ Clarke pried. ‘Surely there’s one you thought might be true?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa shook her head. ‘Definitely not flat earth or big pharma’s out to get us. Have you heard that some theories are blaming this virus on 5G?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Yeah, that’s stupid,’ Clarke agreed. ‘What about the one where Avril Lavigne died and has been replaced by a clone?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Oh, yeah, that’s definitely the more believable one,’ Lexa grinned. ‘Or maybe the one where Pitbull is actually a lizardman.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I haven’t heard that one,’ Clarke laughed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa nodded knowingly. ‘There’s a lady who comes into the gym all the time - tells me all about it every time one of his songs comes on the playlist.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘You’ll have to introduce me when I start my membership,’ Clarke laughed. ‘Alright, next question.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘What about your answer?’ Lexa protested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Oh, that’s easy. Aliens.’ Clarke winked and glanced back down at her phone for the next question. ‘Oh this one’s cute: what’s the best part of your day?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘In lockdown or out of lockdown?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Both? Two questions for the price of one?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Well in lockdown is easy - this,’ Lexa gestured between them. Clarke’s heartbeat quickened at the thought of being the best part of someone’s day. Specifically, the best part of Lexa’s day. ‘Out of lockdown, probably when I have a client who’s succeeding in their goals. I like to see people achieve and excel themselves at what they’ve chosen.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Well you’re just too sweet.’ Clarke wanted to see that Lexa, she could imagine her now, high fiving someone who just beat their personal best on the treadmill.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘And yours?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’ll have to cop out on the lockdown one and say this too,’ Clarke blushed. ‘But normally, when I go to the park at lunchtime and can just watch people go about their day, not enclosed by walls and technology. I like to just be free, you know?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa nodded, understanding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Next one: what’s one superpower you would </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>want?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Uh, flying.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Really?’ Clarke was surprised by the answer. ‘How come?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa shrugged. ‘I don’t know, I just never really got the appeal of wanting to fly, even when playing games as a kid. I prefer to keep my feet on the ground. You?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Mind reading.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa cocked her head to the side to prompt the question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I just don’t want to hear people’s thoughts, like their honest thoughts - about me.’ Clarke confessed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa frowned, confused. ‘What, all the thoughts about you being a great and caring person? A talented artist? A super friendly neighbour?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke blushed furiously. ‘You don’t know that about me,’ she argued. ‘We only met like three days ago.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I thought it was four? But I’m a good judge of character, so I know these things.’ Lexa grinned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke shook her head and quickly moved onto the next question. ‘Ooh, a political one: if you could bankrupt any person, company, country or organization, who would it be?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘The dicks destroying the rainforests,’ Lexa answered immediately. ‘Just let the plants and animals be. Find another way to do business.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’m sensing a strong opinion there,’ Clarke prompted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I like the outdoors and nature,’ Lexa answered. ‘I think people can live with the environment rather than just taking from it. If I could I’d just go live in a log cabin in the middle of a forest.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I imagine that would be nice, if there was a cosy fire and enough blankets.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘How about you? Who’s your bankruptcy target?’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke thought carefully. ‘Drugs gangs, like the Mafia and stuff. Maybe if it wasn’t profitable, then they’d stop ruining people’s lives for it.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘That’s pretty deep.’ Lexa said quietly. ‘Sounds like there’s a backstory there.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke nodded, not sure if she wanted to approach the topic just yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa seemed to understand. ‘What’s the next question?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke glanced back down. ‘If you had a nemesis, what kind of qualities would they have?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Well for a start they’d be totally self involved - no thought for anyone but themselves or their agenda. Totally power crazy. And they probably hate kids too.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke chuckled. ‘Sounds like a real villain. Mine would probably be similar - doesn’t care about society, is only looking out for themselves, just doesn’t think about the effects of their actions on others.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’m glad we’re on the same page on that,’ Lexa chuckled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Ok, this one’s a bit interesting,’ Clarke’s eyebrows shot up as she read it, curious to hear Lexa’s answer. ‘Would you have sex with a clone of yourself?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘No,’ Lexa answered immediately, to Clarke’s surprise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Really? How come?’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa shrugged. ‘I’m not my type, plus it would be weird.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘So what is your type?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa raised an eyebrow with a smirk. ‘That’s not the question.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Oh come on,’ Clarke laughed, seeing how far she could push it. ‘We’re getting to know each other.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa’s smirk grew even wider. ‘And women generally get to know if they’re my type over dinner, so you’ll have to try harder than an online quiz for that.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke enjoyed the flirtatious banter, half-wondering if Lexa was being serious. That small part of her mind was getting louder by the minute. ‘Fine, keep your secrets. But just so you know, I wouldn’t either.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa acted hurt. ‘You wouldn’t have sex with my clone either? She’s getting a lot of rejections for someone who doesn’t exist.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Shut up, you know I meant my clone,’ Clarke bit her lip to stop herself from saying that she </span>
  <em>
    <span>absolutely</span>
  </em>
  <span> would have sex with Lexa’s clone. And Lexa. Both even. But she thought that would be a little forward for someone she hoped would talk to her for the rest of the lockdown. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Fine,’ Lexa relented. ‘So what’s your reasoning for rejecting your clone?’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘She’d be way too bossy,’ Clarke admitted, giving away just a hint more of herself than she had wanted to. ‘And I’ll take no further questions on that,’ she said quickly, moving onto the next question before Lexa could ask the question she clearly wanted to. ‘You just became a member of the Spice Girls. What Spice name do you make up for yourself?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Well you’re clearly Bossy Spice,’ Lexa teased. ‘Sporty Spice is already taken, maybe Nerdy Spice?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Really?’ Clarke had Fitty Spice in mind, but again, </span>
  <em>
    <span>inappropriate</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘What?’ Lexa defended. ‘I have other interests. You’ll just have to wait for a question about them to find out.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke rolled her eyes. She was finding this quiz brought more questions than it answered about her even more intriguing neighbour. Clarke was having a tough time sticking to her idea that she only found Lexa attractive because of the lockdown. ‘Anyway, I can’t think of anything more accurate than Bossy Spice because Arty Spice just sounds lame. Next question: what was the last thing you couldn’t get off your mind?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘So I found out the other day that koala fingerprints are so similar to human fingerprints that they’ve been confused before at crime scenes. Can you imagine that?’ Lexa started to get animated with her hands as she explained that she couldn’t stop thinking about how you could use a koala to get away with murder. It was adorable, if you ignored the part about planning someone’s murder. ‘All hypothetical of course,’ Lexa assured her at the end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I can definitely see why Nerdy Spice is justified,’ Clarke chuckled. ‘Mine’s a little depressing, but I was thinking that if anything happened to me, like if I had a sudden heart attack or something, I wouldn’t be found until all this is over.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa shook her head. ‘Not true. Besides the fact that that’s not going to happen, I’d break the door down if you didn’t come outside for our morning chats.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke laughed, appreciating Lexa’s reassurance. ‘I’d better not sleep in then. These next couple are quick fire ones. What’s your favourite smell?’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Oh, easy, vanilla scented candles.’ Lexa nodded, firm in her choice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Good one,’ Clarke approved. ‘Mine’s oil paints. What can you talk about for hours?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Probably fitness, because that’s part of my job,’ Lexa shrugged. ‘You?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Well, art, as you found out the other night,’ Clarke reminded her. ‘What is your drink of choice?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Rum and coke.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Gin lemonade. If you were invisible for 10 minutes, right now, what would you do?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Probably go out and wander around for a bit,’ Lexa looked down and across at the empty streets. ‘I just miss the choice to go out, you know?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke nodded. ‘Obviously keeping a socially distant distance though.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Obviously,’ Lexa agreed. ‘You?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Well invisibility wouldn’t help get around the social distancing stuff, so that rules out most things I’d want to do.’ Clarke thought carefully. ‘I’d probably go to the park and look up at the stars. I’ve been thinking how this lockdown has reduced the light pollution so it would be ideal conditions for it.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘That’s cool,’ Lexa agreed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Clarke went to read out the next question, Lexa’s phone started ringing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’m sorry, that’s my nephew,’ Lexa looked at Clarke, apologetic. ‘He’ll probably be on the phone for ages - do you mind if we carry on tomorrow?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Yeah, no problem,’ Clarke was a little sad that their evening was cut short, but the promise of tomorrow was always there.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Has anyone else started to get to know their neighbours more during this lockdown? Mine are just as mysterious as before except every now and then a dog appears in my neighbour's garden. Pretty sure they don't have a dog though, so it's a bit weird. </p><p>If you're wondering why I'm not updating this fic every day, it's because I'm trying to alternate between this and some other Clexa WIPs, so feel free to check out my other stuff to get that sweet Clexa hit. </p><p>Stay safe!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Every day is a weekend</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Clarke woke up to the calming white noise of rain on the window, it slowly brought her out of sleep and kept her lying in bed with her eyes closed, just listening to the sheets of raindrops against the glass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a while, she pushed herself upright and frowned at the window. If it was raining, she wouldn’t be able to sit out on the balcony. Which meant no Lexa. Clarke wasn’t sure if it was the disturbance to her new routine that made her feel sad, or if it was simply not being able to see Lexa. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Actually, Clarke was pretty sure she knew which one bothered her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a sigh, Clarke got up and went about her day as usual. Shower, dress, breakfast. She opened the curtains to the balcony and looked over to the corner of Lexa’s balcony that she could see. Her heart sank just a little bit when she saw the furniture had gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke switched on the TV while she ate, listening to the ever more depressing news as more and more cases of the virus were confirmed across the world. No country was prepared, and there seemed to always be criticism no matter what approach was taken. Clarke checked in on her mum, letting her know that she was ok and hoping that Abby was getting enough food and rest between shifts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Clarke stood up to return her dishes to the kitchen, she noticed a little slip of paper poking out from under the door. She picked it up, and her mood brightened tenfold as she read the neat, unfamiliar handwriting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“ I thought we could take our morning chats inside as it’s raining. Also, in case of emergency if you need me to break down the door.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lexa. ”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Below was written a mobile number and Clarke resisted the urge to call it immediately. Did Lexa mean that Clarke should call her? Or FaceTime? Or what? Clarke settled on texting first, just to clarify that she had received the note. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>Morning :) It’s Clarke, btw. Just read your note, sorry I didn’t see it earlier! More than happy to have our chat inside x </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke hit send and realised that she had signed off with an ‘x’ out of habit. Eyes wide, she had a minor freak out. What if Lexa misinterpreted it and thought Clarke was flirting? What if Lexa wasn’t a sign-off-with-a-kiss kind of person? What if Clarke had just shut down any further conversation with her neighbour? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Lexa didn’t reply after a few minutes Clarke started massively overthinking and resorted to checking in on her group chat with Octavia and Raven for some crisis resolution.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>SOS. I think I just fucked up</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke waited impatiently for either Raven or Octavia to reply. Raven was probably working, but Clarke couldn’t be sure who was doing what and when anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>8tavia</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>What happened? There’s literally nothing to fuck up when you’re trapped inside on your own</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Clarke</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>I’ve been chatting to my next door neighbour and just ended my first text to her with an x</b>
</p><p>
  <b>8tavia</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>This is a disaster, why? </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Ooh unless she’s hot</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Is she hot?</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Clarke</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>Yes, but that’s not the point. She still hasn’t replied.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke’s phone vibrated with an incoming video call from Octavia. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Clarke, tell me everything about your hot neighbour.’ Octavia demanded, as soon as the call connected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘O, there’s nothing to tell,’ Clarke insisted. ‘We’ve just been talking while we’re both stuck in this lockdown.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Octavia huffed and pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘Clarke. I don’t think you understand. I am stuck in this apartment with my brother, who insists on doing everything for me and not letting me out of here. I have to sneak out for my daily walk even though he </span>
  <em>
    <span>isn’t fucking here</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the day.’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke couldn’t help but chuckle at how dramatic Octavia was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I don’t care if your neighbour is an 84 year old who crochets hats for her thousand cats. I would still find it interesting right now.’ Octavia stressed. ‘So tell me about your high school drama with your neighbour.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Alright, fine,’ Clarke relented. ‘Well she’s definitely not 84, and as far as I know she doesn’t crochet or have any pets.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Start from the beginning,’ Octavia told her, taking her phone over to the sofa. ‘Don’t miss out any details. I’m living vicariously through you right now.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Her name is Lexa, she lives at 318 next door,’ Clarke began. ‘She owns a gym.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Ooh, which gym?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Woods Fitness,’ Clarke recalled. ‘I think she said it’s on Fifth?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Octavia nodded in recognition. ‘I’ve been in there a few times, it’s a decent gym. Some good eye candy in there.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Yeah, so she owns that with her sister,’ Clarke continued, resisting commenting on Lexa being some pretty good eye candy herself. ‘I think she works there too as a personal trainer.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Do we know where she falls on the rainbow?’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke shrugged. ‘She mentioned an ex-girlfriend, so at least bi I guess?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Hold up,’ Octavia raised a hand and frowned. ‘Aren’t you still banging Niylah?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke sighed. ‘Technically, but it’s all casual, nothing official happening there and nor will there be. But that’s also not the point here, O.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Right, okay, carry on,’ Octavia conceded. ‘Tell me more about hot Lexa. What does she look like?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘She’s about my height, a little taller, I think,’ Clarke estimated based on never having been closer than a few metres away from Lexa. ‘She’s got brown hair, excellent bone structure, I mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>amazing </span>
  </em>
  <span>cheekbones going on. Great legs too.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Okay, so I’m hearing hot Lexa is hot. Got any photos?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke shook her head. ‘O, we barely know each other and our only interaction until today has been from our respective balconies. Not exactly the time for a selfie.’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Alright, I hear ya,’ Octavia paused for thought. ‘Do you know her last name?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘No, O,’ Clarke huffed. ‘You’re not helping me deal with the fact I ended our first digital communication with a kiss. What if I’ve scared her off?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Clarke,’ Octavia sighed. ‘I say this with the greatest of love for you - get over yourself. Pretty much everyone signs off with an x, it’s basically stopped meaning a kiss now. Unless it’s to a boss, or an over-invested fuckboy, it’s nothing.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke still fretted, worrying her lip between her teeth. ‘But I sort of mentioned Niylah to her so she knows that I’m into women.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Oh well in that case you’re fucked,’ Octavia shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘O!’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’m messing with you, Clarke,’ Octavia laughed. ‘Listen to me, it’s either nothing and she’s just busy doing whatever she’s doing, or she’s freaking out just as much as you are right now.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke’s phone started to buzz and her eyes went wide when Lexa’s contact name appeared on screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘O, I’ve got to go, Lexa’s calling me,’ Clarke explained. ‘Love you, bye!’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Told you so!’ Octavia grinned. ‘Tell me more after-’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke hung up the video call, cutting off whatever Octavia was about to say. She cleared her throat and accepted Lexa’s phone call. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Hello?’ Clarke mentally slapped herself for answering as though she didn’t know who was calling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Hi Clarke, it’s Lexa,’ came the soft voice that Clarke had become so used to hearing. ‘Sorry, I was finishing up a workout for the gym and hit the shower. Do you want to video chat?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Yeah, sure, and it’s no problem,’ Clarke assured Lexa. ‘Do you have WhatsApp?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Yeah, give me a second and I’ll call you back on there.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke nodded and hung up. Quickly, she looked around her flat and fussed with the pillows and blankets on her sofa. She wasn’t sure why she did it; it wasn’t like Lexa thought she lived in some interior design magazine-worthy flat or anything. Clarke was pretty sure that all of the apartments in the block had more or less the same layout, and Lexa wouldn’t think any less of her for having slightly flat sofa cushions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her phone vibrated again with an incoming WhatsApp video call from Lexa Woods. Clarke briefly noted how Lexa’s surname kind of suited her, insofar as surnames suited people. Her profile picture was a pretty cute one of Lexa and a little blonde boy on her shoulders, both pulling funny faces at the camera. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Hey,’ Lexa smiled, she looked fresh and had her damp hair up in a messy bun. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke blinked and picked her jaw up from the floor. From the camera angle, Clarke assumed Lexa was similarly sat cross-legged on her sofa. She had only ever seen Lexa out on the balcony, dressed in cosy jumpers and her comfy shorts that showed off long, toned legs. But indoor Lexa was dressed in what looked like a different colour of comfy shorts and a sports vest top. Said vest top that showed off muscular arms and shoulders, and revealed the somewhat unexpected black ink of a tattoo on her right bicep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke was starting to resign herself to the fact that with every new thing she learned about Lexa she became another notch more attractive. And it wasn’t fair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Clarke? You there?’ Lexa picked up her phone, concerned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Yeah, I’m here, sorry, signal went a bit,’ Clarke fibbed to cover up her drooling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘It probably doesn’t help that everyone in the country is stuck inside on the internet,’ Lexa smiled. ‘So how’s your day going?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Not too bad thanks, much better now,’ Clarke grinned, then realised what she’d said and hastily backtracked. ‘I thought I’d have to start talking to myself for some company otherwise.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully Lexa didn’t seem to read too much into Clarke’s rambling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’m glad you got my note, I was pretty close to coming to break down the door,’ Lexa warned. ‘And that would have been really awkward to explain to the building manager and the police.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’m sure the intention of rescuing a potential damsel in distress would work in your favour,’ Clarke reasoned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa shook her head. ‘I don’t think anyone would believe me if I said you were a damsel in distress. You seem like a pretty capable person.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke raised an eyebrow. ‘I guess I’ll take that as a compliment.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘You should,’ Lexa nodded, looking right at Clarke through the camera. ‘But you know, joking aside, if you do ever need help with anything just let me know. I’m sure you’ve got plenty of people who’d be willing to, I just thought I’d offer as I’m next door.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke was quite touched by her words. As it turned out most of her friends came to Clarke when they needed help, but weren’t always there when she needed it in return. Clarke couldn’t help but think how she had known Lexa for a week and already felt like she was one of the more dependable people in Clarke’s life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Thank you,’ was all that Clarke managed to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat in a moment of silence before Lexa cleared her throat. ‘So have you got any plans for today or do you want to carry on with that quiz from last night?’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’m game for that, I don’t think we had that many left,’ Clarke replied. ‘Let me get the page up.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke quickly found the page again and scrolled down to where they had left off. ‘We’d got to being invisible for ten minutes, right?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Okay, there aren’t too many left, so the next question is: what would ten year old you think of you now?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa took a deep breath through her teeth. ‘Oh right in at the deep end.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘We can come back to it if you want?’ Clarke offered, trying to think of her own answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘No, it’s okay,’ Lexa dismissed. ‘I think ten year old me wouldn’t believe we were the same person. I was a really nerdy kid, a bit of an outsider with not many friends. I think ten year old me would be pretty proud of how far I’ve come and what I’ve achieved.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke nodded appreciatively. ‘That’s really great. I think ten year old me would be pretty disappointed that I’m not a famous actress married to Jesse McCartney.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa cringed. ‘Oh wow, that’s a throwback.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke winced. ‘Yep, I had a poster above my bed and everything. I was convinced we were going to meet one day while I was at a movie premiere or something.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Pretty ambitious dreams,’ Lexa chuckled. ‘I wanted to be Steve Irwin, so in that respect younger me would be a bit sad.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I can see you out exploring the wilderness, getting all excited about animals you come across.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Yeah, all my posters were out of National Geographic, except for a massive one of Buffy the Vampire Slayer,’ Lexa looked wistful. ‘I probably should have known I was gay based on that alone.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke’s mind kicked into overdrive at the confirmation of Lexa’s orientation and she decided to roll with it. ‘That’s a pretty good indicator. In hindsight I had major crushes on Buffy, Angel, and Spike, so it wasn’t a surprise to anyone when I came out as bi.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Yep, that’s not a surprise,’ Lexa had a smirk on her face. ‘But I’m judging you a little bit for Jesse McCartney.’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke put her face in her free hand. ‘I’m judging myself for it too.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘What’s next?’ Lexa prompted. She fiddled with something off screen and leaned back, having put her phone up against something to free up her hands. Clarke did the same as she read out the next question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘What are you proud of, but never have an excuse to talk about?’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’m a second dan black belt in kickboxing,’ Lexa shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Oh, now that is impressive,’ Clarke appreciated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘You kickbox?’ Lexa seemed surprised. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke laughed out loud at the thought. ‘Absolutely not, but everyone knows that a black belt is like the best. And I don’t appreciate your tone of surprise, by the way.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Sorry,’ Lexa suppressed a grin. ‘So what are you proud of that you never get to talk about?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke hesitated, wondering whether there was anything else she could think of. But when nothing else offered itself to her question she gave in, expecting Lexa to laugh. ‘I was captain of the chess team at school.’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘That’s quite an achievement.’ There was no judging in Lexa’s voice, something that Clarke had quickly begun to appreciate about the woman.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke was proud of her achievement, mostly because it had been something she had practised with her dad, and the trophy she had won at a national tournament had sat on his desk at work beside a framed picture of the three Griffins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Thank you,’ Clarke smiled. ‘Honestly, when I tell people that they usually say something stupid like “you’re too pretty to play chess”.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Do you still play?’ Lexa asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke shook her head. ‘I have my dad’s old chess set, but it’s been years since I played anyone.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘How about I play you when we’re allowed to socialise in person again?’ Lexa suggested. ‘Then you can prove there’s no such thing as being too pretty to play chess.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke blushed at the compliment. ‘You know online chess exists?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Well play me on that then,’ Lexa challenged. ‘Let’s see how the chess champ fares against the gym rat.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke snorted at the phrase. ‘I’m sorry, you might own a gym, but you really do not fit the stereotype of a gym rat.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa shrugged. ‘Well I do spend most of my time at the gym, so what else would you call someone who does that?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Moving on,’ Clarke rolled her eyes. ‘A follow up to the last question; what is something that is important to you that you never really talk about?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘My tattoos,’ Lexa glanced at the ink on her arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Can I see?’ Clarke leaned a little closer to the camera. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa moved her phone closer to the intricate lines that formed the shape on her upper arm. ‘I’ve got one on my back too, if you’d like to see that as well?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke nodded. ‘If you’re comfortable with that. I don’t have any, but I’ve always been interested in tattoos because they’re art on the body. I just can never commit to one that I like enough to have it.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘It takes a lot of commitment to a design, if you can’t decide it helps if there’s some sort of meaning to it to start off with.’ Lexa stood up and moved the phone so that she could stand and be in the shot. ‘Let me know if you can see it.’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned around and lifted her vest to reveal a line of descending circles that followed her spine, disappearing up to be hidden by the strap of a sports bra. Clarke couldn’t really see the detail, but she could admire the artistry that had gone into the design. She also cast an appreciative eye over Lexa’s muscular back, until Lexa glanced back at the camera. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Clarke?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Yeah, I can see it, sort of. The camera quality isn’t great though. I can’t really see the details.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa let her top back down and moved back to the sofa. ‘I can show you again when this is all over, if you want?’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke’s breath hitched slightly at the thought of being that close to Lexa in person. Octavia’s words of “</span>
  <em>
    <span>get over yourself</span>
  </em>
  <span>” echoed back to her. ‘So what’s important about them that you want to talk about?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I got this one when I was 18,’ she indicated the one on her upper arm. ‘It’s a loose interpretation of Mjolnir, Thor’s hammer from Norse mythology. Costia designed it for me before we got engaged. It’s meant to symbolise protection.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke recalled Lexa saying what happened to her fiance and understood why it meant so much to her. ‘And the one on your back?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Anya wanted a back piece, so we both went in for one,’ Lexa smiled at the memory. ‘It starts with the infinity symbol at my neck and then there’s seven circles, one for each of my family: mum, dad, Anya, myself, my cousin Lincoln who is basically my brother. The smaller two are for Anya’s kids: my niece, Tris, and nephew, Aden, who came along later.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘That’s cute,’ Clarke smiled. ‘Is Aden the kid in your profile picture?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa nodded and smiled fondly. ‘Yeah, he’s the cute one. Tris is so much like Anya, but Aden likes to hang out with his Aunty Lexa whenever he can. How about you? What’s your important thing that you never really talk about?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke lifted her wrist to show off the heavy watch she wore. ‘This was my dad’s. I don’t have many things of his, but this is my favourite and always reminds me of him.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa absently ran her fingers over her tattoo. ‘It’s good to keep their memories alive,’ she murmured and gestured to the watch. ‘It suits you.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke brushed her thumb across the watch face and the battered leather wrist strap. ‘Yeah, I’ve grown into it a bit.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa waited patiently for Clarke to finish reminiscing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Alright, next question: what’s your favourite holiday?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Christmas,’ Lexa replied instantly. ‘It’s just a nice, happy time to spend with people you care about.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’m sensing you’re quite a family driven person,’ Clarke commented. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa shrugged. ‘You don’t have to spend Christmas with family, just the people you care about, whether they’re family by blood or not.’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’m kind of the opposite,’ Clarke admitted. ‘I’m not a big fan of Christmas. It was never quite the same feeling after Dad died, so I’d say New Year is my favourite. It’s all about new beginnings and celebrating what the future might bring.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I don’t think anyone’s New Year wishes anticipated how this year has been so far,’ Lexa observed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Very true,’ Clarke agreed. ‘Alright. The final question: what is something I wouldn’t believe about you?’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke cocked an eyebrow, challenging Lexa to say something she truly wouldn’t believe. Lexa frowned, thinking hard. Clarke similarly tried to think of something Lexa wouldn’t believe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’ve got one,’ Lexa grinned, looking smug. Clarke tried desperately to think of something other than the one thing she had thought of. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Spill, what won’t I believe about you?’ Clarke pressed, intrigued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I have a law degree,’ Lexa announced. And to be fair, Clarke hadn’t expected that answer. She nodded appreciatively. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Yep, that’s something I wouldn’t have expected. But is it unbelievable?’ Clarke teased. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘What’s yours then?’ Lexa challenged, crossing her arms, clearly put out that Clarke wasn’t totally blown away by her personal fact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke blushed preemptively, counting on Lexa’s history of no judgement to continue. ‘I, uh, I have a nipple piercing.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa’s eyebrows shot up her forehead in surprise. Obviously that was when Clarke remembered a different fact that she could have said. Why, oh why, hadn’t she said she could do a keg stand? To Clarke’s dismay Lexa started to chuckle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Yep, I think you win,’ Lexa grinned, scratching the back of her neck. ‘That was unexpected, and a little unbelievable.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke quickly got over her embarrassment and challenged Lexa’s words. ‘You don’t believe me?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘You said you couldn’t commit to a tattoo but went for a nipple piercing?’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Those are totally different things,’ Clarke defended. ‘I went with two friends from uni, and we all had it done.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Fine, you win.’ Lexa still looked like she was skeptical, so Clarke bit her lip and pushed a little further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I can prove it if you still don’t believe me?’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa went instantly red from the neck upwards, it was quite impressive. If Clarke went out for a run in the Sahara she would be a similar shade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘No, I believe you,’ Lexa said quickly. ‘Was that really the last question?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke nodded, just a little bit proud of how rattled Lexa seemed to be, and also surprised at herself for essentially offering to flash someone she had known for a week.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Well, congratulations 319, I now think I know you pretty well,’ Lexa smirked, her eyes darted between the camera and then down at her hands, her face still tinged pink. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke had to agree. ‘Probably a little better than most neighbours know each other.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘You mean you don’t offer to flash all of your neighbours over the internet?’ Lexa teased. ‘I am honoured. And on an unrelated note, I’m going to grab a drink.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke stifled the wide smile that threatened to spread across her face. Octavia would </span>
  <em>
    <span>love </span>
  </em>
  <span>to hear how Clarke’s day had turned out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her phone vibrated with a message from Raven. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>O filled me in on the hot neighbour sitch. </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Chill the fuck out and show some cleavage. Then you’ll know if she’s interested.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke sighed. If Raven knew just how right she was, Clarke would never hear the end of it. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If anyone's interested, here's the quiz I used: https://www.buzzfeed.com/annaborges/weird-questions-to-ask</p><p>Hope everyone's still happy and healthy :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. One Week Down</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Clarke takes a much needed shopping trip.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Clarke took a deep breath of the fresh air as she walked. After a few days of rain, the sun had started peeking through the fluffy white clouds and Clarke decided that she needed to get out of her apartment. She was getting restless cooped up within those same walls. Plus, she was running out of food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Armed with a rucksack and some bags for life, Clarke bimbled her way to the supermarket. There were a few people out on the streets, similarly taking advantage of the change in the weather. It could have been any quiet Sunday afternoon, but every now and then something would jar Clarke back to the reality of the situation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Someone would walk past with a face mask on, or walk into the deserted road to avoid being too close to Clarke. Clarke herself would tuck into one side of the pavement to make as much room as possible for others to get by. Not many people returned her smile as they passed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Clarke reached the supermarket, a queue of people stretched around half of the car park. There may have only been twenty or so people in the queue, but they each stood two metres apart as designated by lines of yellow tape on the floor. Clarke paused to take stock of the situation. It seemed almost surreal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Five people max. in store at one time” a sign read above the trolley pick up area. There were only a relatively small number of trolleys there and a store employee, armed with a spray bottle and a cloth, diligently wiped them down as they were returned. Another store employee stood guard at the automatic doors to ensure no one tried to enter the store without permission. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke took a trolley and joined the back of the queue, hoping that it wouldn’t take too long, and that the items she needed were in stock. She pulled out her phone while she waited and listened to some music through her headphones. She dropped a text to Lexa.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>This queue is mental.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>As usual, it took Lexa a few minutes to reply. Clarke had come to realise that while she was glued to her phone while at home, Lexa was not. She often put the device down and went about doing something else, and only came back to it when someone called or she needed it for something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke couldn’t complain though. Usually she was the same, but during lockdown she had seemed to have become more dependent on her phone than ever before. When she was in the studio with only a canvas and paint for company, her phone became so irrelevant that she had to give notice whenever she was going into one of those moods. The last one had lasted two weeks and ended up with Raven breaking into her apartment, Bellamy turning up at her mother’s, and Octavia storming into the Gallery. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke shuffled forward one space and scrolled through the news. It was all about the virus, with lots of rhetoric about it being a war, the front lines, and a choice for people to fight through. Clarke shook her head at some of the comments being made. Her most recent phone call with her mother disillusioned her to those notions of fighting a noble fight. The virus doesn’t give a damn.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Do you want anything from the shop? I think I’ll be here quite some time x</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Lexa</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>I’m alright, thank you. </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Ten minutes later and Clarke had crept forward a few more spaces. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>What are you up to today?</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Lexa</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>It’s my turn to do the online class today, so that and editing will take up most of the afternoon. </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Looking forward to watching it!</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Lexa</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>You watch them?</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke fiddled with her phone before answering. Lexa had mentioned a few times that she was doing workouts for the gym and, following their conversation, Octavia had done a little digging and sent Clarke one of Lexa’s videos. It had done nothing to curb Clarke’s growing attraction to her neighbour.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa took it in turns to run a biweekly workout, alternating with the other personal trainers at the gym. So Clarke now knew who Anya and Lincoln were, and that Octavia had a massive crush on Lincoln as a result of her also watching the videos. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke realised that she hadn’t actually mentioned to Lexa that she had seen them. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>Yeah, full disclosure - I mentioned your gym to a friend and I think she’s now obsessed with Lincoln. </b>
</p><p>
  <b>She gets very excited when his videos come up.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Lexa</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>I’ll be sure to let him know he has a fan!</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke glanced up from her phone as a disturbance at the front of the queue caught her attention. A man in a gas mask had just tried to walk through the front entrance of the shop without queueing and was being reprimanded by the cashier-turned-bouncer at the door. The queue turned to watch the man as he was ordered to the back of the queue to wait his turn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke moved forward another space. Another fifteen minutes and she was only five spaces from the front of the queue. On one side she had a metal barrier, on the other she had a wall of potted plants for sale. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she waited, Clarke perused the plants. The small leafy pots reminded her of something Lexa had said about wanting to spruce up her apartment. Mostly they had discussed artwork and coloured throw pillows, but one of the little plants just cried out to Clarke as the perfect gift for her nature-loving neighbour.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the pot plant safely in her trolley, once Clarke was finally permitted entry to the store she whizzed around and ticked off the majority of her list. It seemed that the supply lines that had been badly affected within the first week of the lockdown had recovered, or maybe Clarke had just picked a good time of day to shop. Either way the only things missing from her list were some chicken and a specific flavour of tortellini. Clarke had managed to get one of the last boxes of eggs and decided to stock up on more wine. There were only two tills open and the shorter queue just so happened to be down the alcohol aisle. The deals just cried out for Clarke to take.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke severely regretted her choices on the return journey to her apartment as she struggled with her numerous heavily laden bags, the pot plant balanced precariously at the top of one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Many breathing stops later, Clarke reached her apartment block. The trip up the third floor via the stairs (as the elevator was forever out of order) was accompanied by furious swearing and a vow to never do that much shopping for the duration of lockdown. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her frustration peaked when, at the end of the corridor with her front door in sight, one of her reusable bags tore and sent a bag of canned goods cascading onto the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘FUCK! OFF!’ Clarke swore, too hot and tired to care how loud her outburst was. She took her intact bags to her door and placed them on the floor while she unlocked her front door. She placed the bags in the doorway, heaved the rucksack from her back, and retreated back to pick up the rest of her scattered items. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she gathered her items Clarke heard the creak of a door and a curious voice called out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Clarke?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke shot up, blood rushing to her face at being spotted scrambling around on the floor by Lexa. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Hi!’ Clarke brushed her hair from her face, careful not to drop the precariously balanced mound of tins in her arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Are you okay?’ Lexa peered out of her doorway, looking better than she had any right to when Clarke was red-faced and sweating with exertion. ‘I thought I heard a commotion.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke could feel strands of her blonde hair stuck to her forehead and the back of her neck. The t-shirt under her canvas jacket was practically glued to her damp lower back. In contrast, Lexa was stood in lycra shorts and a crop top, the kind that only people who knew they were outrageously fit could pull off. It absolutely wasn’t fair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘My bag ripped,’ Clarke explained. ‘Sorry if I disturbed your workout.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke shuffled towards her door, trying her best not to let her eyes linger on Lexa’s trim physique and suddenly exposed abs. This was the first time they had been present in the same space without some sort of barrier between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘You didn’t, I was just editing,’ Lexa frowned, concerned. ‘Are you sure you’re okay? Can I help with anything?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke shook her head, insistent and embarrassed. ‘No, I’m fine thanks. All under control now; it was just a long trip with heavy bags.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa still seemed hesitant to return to her apartment though. ‘Do you still want to chat later? Once you’re all recovered and everything? I found a few online board games if you want to give them a go?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke nodded eagerly. ‘Yeah, that sounds great.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘See you then,’ Lexa smiled, finally taking a step back into her apartment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Wait!’ Clarke suddenly remembered her gift for Lexa. ‘I got you something, hold on.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke hip checked her door open and dumped her armful of shopping onto the counter. She primped her hair a little and shook her sore arms out before she retrieved the little pot plant from its bag. Lexa hovered, intrigued, in the hallway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I saw this and thought you might like it,’ Clarke placed the plant on the ground between their apartments; conscious of the distance between them. Lexa looked incredibly surprised and Clarke realised how ridiculous the gesture was. Who just gets their neighbour a plant? What if Lexa had allergies? What if it was the wrong type of plant? ‘I can take it back if you don’t want it though.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘No, no, it’s amazing,’ Lexa quickly assured her. She bent to pick up the plant and handled it carefully. ‘Thank you, Clarke. That’s so thoughtful of you.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke hovered awkwardly, but she was thrilled at Lexa’s reaction. ‘I’ll, uh, see you later then?’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa nodded, her bright green eyes were wide as she looked at Clarke. ‘Yes, absolutely. See you later.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke retreated back into her apartment and leaned her head back against the door. It baffled her how much of an effect Lexa had on her.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well this took way longer than expected. Now into 4 weeks of lockdown so there's plenty more to come, with the only difference of me actually having to do work at home which sadly takes time away from writing again. </p><p>Also, if anyone else still plays PokemonGo and is using it to stave off some boredom, feel free to add me: 3119 5403 9759</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Let me know how you're spending your lockdown! Doing anything fun? Are you a key worker? What's the thing you've done that is the pinnacle of lockdown boredom?</p><p>I'm trying to update other fics in between writing this one, so feel free to check out my other fics for more Clexa goodness.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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